Uncle Tom's Cabin eBook

“Yes, Eliza, so long as we have each other and
our boy. O! Eliza, if these people only
knew what a blessing it is for a man to feel that
his wife and child belong to him! I’ve
often wondered to see men that could call their wives
and children their own fretting and worrying
about anything else. Why, I feel rich and strong,
though we have nothing but our bare hands. I
feel as if I could scarcely ask God for any more.
Yes, though I’ve worked hard every day, till
I am twenty-five years old, and have not a cent of
money, nor a roof to cover me, nor a spot of land
to call my own, yet, if they will only let me alone
now, I will be satisfied,—­thankful; I will
work, and send back the money for you and my boy.
As to my old master, he has been paid five times over
for all he ever spent for me. I don’t owe
him anything.”

“But yet we are not quite out of danger,”
said Eliza; “we are not yet in Canada.”

“True,” said George, “but it seems
as if I smelt the free air, and it makes me strong.”

At this moment, voices were heard in the outer apartment,
in earnest conversation, and very soon a rap was heard
on the door. Eliza started and opened it.

Simeon Halliday was there, and with him a Quaker brother,
whom he introduced as Phineas Fletcher. Phineas
was tall and lathy, red-haired, with an expression
of great acuteness and shrewdness in his face.
He had not the placid, quiet, unworldly air of Simeon
Halliday; on the contrary, a particularly wide-awake
and au fait appearance, like a man who rather
prides himself on knowing what he is about, and keeping
a bright lookout ahead; peculiarities which sorted
rather oddly with his broad brim and formal phraseology.

“Our friend Phineas hath discovered something
of importance to the interests of thee and thy party,
George,” said Simeon; “it were well for
thee to hear it.”

“That I have,” said Phineas, “and
it shows the use of a man’s always sleeping
with one ear open, in certain places, as I’ve
always said. Last night I stopped at a little
lone tavern, back on the road. Thee remembers
the place, Simeon, where we sold some apples, last
year, to that fat woman, with the great ear-rings.
Well, I was tired with hard driving; and, after my
supper I stretched myself down on a pile of bags in
the corner, and pulled a buffalo over me, to wait till
my bed was ready; and what does I do, but get fast
asleep.”

“With one ear open, Phineas?” said Simeon,
quietly.

“No; I slept, ears and all, for an hour or two,
for I was pretty well tired; but when I came to myself
a little, I found that there were some men in the
room, sitting round a table, drinking and talking;
and I thought, before I made much muster, I’d
just see what they were up to, especially as I heard
them say something about the Quakers. ‘So,’
says one, ‘they are up in the Quaker settlement,
no doubt,’ says he. Then I listened with
both ears, and I found that they were talking about